


For You

by rotg5311



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Adult Morty Smith, Aged-Down Rick Sanchez, Aged-Up Morty Smith, Angst, Dom Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Gentle Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), M/M, Masturbation, My First Work in This Fandom, Pining, Rick Being an Asshole, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Smut, Sub Morty Smith, The Flesh Curtains, Work In Progress, Young Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: Rick de-ages himself and Morty is having a hard time not looking at his new body.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 46
Kudos: 561





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on, Rick. I want to go home.” Morty grumbled from his place a few paces behind his Grandfather. Of course he knew they wouldn’t leave until Rick did whatever the hell he came here to do, but that didn’t stop him from complaining. It felt like all he did lately was complain. But Rick was dragging him out more and more in the past few weeks. Frankly, Morty was exhausted. Not that Rick cared.

“And I want something very small and very valuable from this shit hole planet.” Rick glanced over his shoulder at Morty, frowning at how far back he had fallen. “B-better keep up. I might not save you this time.”

Of course Rick would save him. He always did. Morty knew that. Morty also knew that he had been getting them into danger more and more lately and he wasn’t about to test his luck. Of course Rick would save him, but if he was pissed off enough, well he might let Morty get a little banged up first.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Morty grumbled again, keeping his head low. Rick was being extra insufferable lately and Morty wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it’s because they had been hanging out almost non stop since Morty graduated high school. Maybe it’s because he wanted to get in as many adventures as he could before Morty ‘ran off to college’. Not that Morty had applied anywhere or even gave it any thought at all. The farthest he got in the thinking process was ‘oh boy, I hate school.’ He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do with his life now. But he had time. He was only eighteen after all.

“W-what’s with the attitude? I take you out on a great adventure and you talk to me like I ruined your Friday night?” He could hear that tone in Rick’s voice. Morty couldn’t exactly describe it, but it was the tone that appeared directly before an argument. “Oh sorry you don’t get to stay home and jerk it all night, Sweetheart. This mission requires two, and you’re the only one around.”

Morty wanted to argue that he had plans, that he had something important to do on a Friday night. But Rick was right. The only things he did with his life was hang out with Rick, masterbate, and watch TV. So instead of rising to the bait, Morty just grumbled in reply. He knew Rick was trying to pick a fight, but he refused to play along.  
That mind set lasted him almost the entire mission. Almost. It was only after they had gotten what Rick needed, which Morty still couldn’t remember the name of, that everything exploded. Rick had gotten just a little too mean and Morty was just a little too tired to hold in his equally snotty reply. And when all hell broke loose, Morty couldn’t help but let all the worst things on his mind come out of his mouth.

Hurtful things were said on both sides, and if Morty had watery eyes by the time it was over, well that was his business and no one else’s. Especially not Rick’s, because he wouldn’t be speaking to the older man for a few days. 

It was a hard promise to keep, but Morty was determined. After the first day of ignoring Rick, he was pretty much over their entire argument. After the third day he was genuinely upset to find out that Rick was still ignoring him too. By the fifth day, Morty practically broke his way into the garage, angry and worked up once more, ready to tear Rick a new one.

“Rick, I can’t believe you’re so stuck up that-” Morty’s words were bubbling out of him faster than he could process the scene in front of him. Or more specifically, the Rick in front of him. It wasn’t his Rick. Sure, they shared the same features, most Rick’s did. But this one was a good thirty years younger than Morty’s Grandfather, if not more. “What Rick are you? Where’s C-137?”

“Wow, Morty. Is five days really enough time for you to forget me?” The Rick in front of him rolled his eyes before pulling out a flask and taking a swig. “Guess you are as dumb as you look.”

“Rick?” Morty ignored the insult, letting it roll right off him. Instead, he just stared, as if looking long enough would bring his grouchy old grandfather’s appearance back into reality.

“Y-yes, Morty. It’s me. Don’t get your panties in a twist or anything.” The younger version of Rick brushed his way past Morty into the house.

“What happened?” Morty asked, already knowing he wouldn’t get a straightforward answer. It had either been an accident, which Rick would never admit to in a million years, or on purpose, which Rick would never give Morty the real reason for. Still, it was worth a shot. “Why do you look like that?”

“What are you talking about?” Rick looked down at his body before shrugging nonchalantly. “Oh this? I mean, I’ve always looked this good, Morty. Can’t believe you’ve never noticed before.”

“Did you put yourself in another clone, Rick?” Morty ignored the jab, choosing to focus on more important things. “That didn’t work so great last time.”

“No shit it didn’t. W-which is why I wouldn’t do it again.” He took another swig from his flask before grabbing a box of cookies and heading back to the garage. Morty followed closely behind, not wanting to be locked out again. “This was more of a… a de-aging thing. You wouldn’t get the science behind it.”

That was almost enough to make Morty fight back. Sure, he wasn’t as smart as Rick. Nobody was. But he wasn’t an idiot either. And if Rick would just sit down and explain the process in detail then it was something that Morty could understand. But Rick didn’t call him stupid a lot unless he was trying to start a fight or prove a point. Morty would’ve bet on the first one. So once again, he kept his mouth shut.

“Alright. So-so why did you do it?”

“Why? Geez, Morty. Why did I make myself younger?” Rick shook his head, looking down on Morty as if he was an actual idiot. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m pushing eighty and so was my body? You think I’m going to let that ancient old bastard kill me before I’m ready?”

Morty almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Rick was still a few years away from being eighty at the very least. He wasn’t positive, because Rick would never tell him just how old he was, but Morty guessed he was in his mid seventies. Now, his Grandfather was sporting a body that was about… late thirties to early forties. He looked so different, yet so similar.

The same blue-gray hair from an experimental lab mishap lined his head, though thicker and just a little more tame. It was something he could pass off as old age more often than not, though now it looked as equally out of place as it was fitting. Rick wore the same clothes, though he seemed to fill them out just a tad bit more. Like there was more wiry muscle underneath, if only a little. But the thing that screamed Rick the most were those eyes. Sad, tired, and full of hate for the world. The eyes of a man who’s seen too much, yet just kept living.

“Ok, Rick.” Morty looked away, uncomfortable, though he wasn’t really sure why. “So what are we doing today?”

“We? Oh are you done being mad at me now? Well maybe I’m still mad, Morty. Y-you said some hurtful things to me.” Rick grabbed his portal gun off the bench. “Luckily for you I remember none of them and I need some help. Let’s go.”

The portal opened to Morty’s right, swirling and beckoning him in. Without hesitation, he walked inside, trusting Rick would follow. Morty always trusted Rick.


	2. Chapter 2

“Rick, can we hurry this up?” Morty frowned up at the older man. It had been nice being almost as tall as Rick. Then Rick had to go and de-age himself and grow another inch or two. Morty had always thought it was a myth that people shrunk in old age. Clearly it was true, and sadly that left him about five inches shorter than Rick. It wasn’t a super huge deal… Just enough to get on his nerves when he was already spiraling into a bad mood.

This mission was bullshit and they both knew it. Morty figured it was some sort of weird punishment for pissing Rick off. At first he had been overly joyed to be on what was essentially a Hooker planet, but then the reality set in. Tits. Ass. Dangerously thick thighs. Skin and bodies and not nearly enough clothing to go around. Morty was in Heaven. And then Rick had to go and fuck it all up.

“Don’t talk to anybody Morty. Don’t touch anyone. Don’t even look at anyone. And definitely don’t do anyone.” Rick’s words swirled in his head agitating him further. It’s not like he could talk to anyone there but Rick even if he wanted to. The translator chip Rick had inserted in him years ago didn’t seem to work for Morty even though Rick’s was doing just fine.

It might not have even been that much of an issue if they had been in and out of there quick. Maybe Morty would have made an excuse to not sleep with one of the humanoid alien chicks. Like, maybe they were deadly. Or maybe they mated for life, which hadn’t gone in Morty’s favor before. Or maybe… Maybe none of the excuses he could think of mattered because he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with the girls surrounding him other than the shady hotel they ended up at.

“Morty.” Rick looked down at him, quirking his eyebrow. “I-I know you can’t understand the delicacy of the situation, but believe me when I say I can’t rush this. Grandpa has some- has some uh… important matters to tend to.”

Morty ran a hand down his face in frustration, unsure of where to even begin yelling at Rick. It was a mistake. By the time his eyes focused both Rick and the two Women he had at his side had already disappeared behind the door. Morty saw red.

There was absolutely zero reason for him to be here. This wasn’t a mission. This wasn’t a two person job. This was Rick getting back at Morty in his stupid subtle Rick way. And Morty was sick of it. He was stupid for thinking Rick wouldn’t hold a grudge. Sure, Morty didn’t remember half the things he said in that fight, but ‘psychotic sex crazed dirty old bastard’ just wouldn’t leave his mind. No wonder Rick brought him here. But that didn’t mean Morty had to deal with it. Rick was ‘occupied’. He’d never notice if Morty left. Going home wasn’t an option without the portal gun, but that wouldn’t stop him from wandering. Rick would find him later. Whenever that was.

“Blorp.” A soft, feminine voice dragged Morty from his thoughts. Looking up, the first thing Morty saw was boobs. Big ones, too. Popping scandalously out of the too small shirt that also did very little to cover a flat but firm stomach devoid of a belly button. He had never seen someone wear only a thong for pants in public before, but he wasn’t about to complain now.

“Uh hi.” Morty finally made his way up to the things face, a little ashamed to admit it wasn’t the first feature he noticed. He was also ashamed to admit it was her worst feature, and the least human quality she had.

Letting out a string of nonsensical words his translator couldn’t decipher, Morty realized she was the first person here to actually try and talk to him directly. He also realized, with a growing bulge in his pants, just what kind of proposition she was making. He had only been half joking to himself when he called it a Prostitute Planet, but maybe he wasn’t wrong. Or maybe Rick had just taken them to a sleazy part of this reality.

As her dark hand with shorter than average fingers caressed his arm Morty had a decision to make. He could either listen to Rick and ‘don’t do anyone’, while he waited around for his Grandpa to stop doing everyone. Or he could go with her and hope the intergalactic money Rick gave him from time to time was worth something on this World.

A loud, breathy moan from the other side of the door made that choice for him. Fuck Rick and his dumb rules. Morty flashed her a pathetic wink, hoping it would make up for the lack of being able to communicate. She was on him in a flash, locking her thin, pale lips onto his. Morty let the force of her body push him back, slamming them into the door hard enough to rattle the knob. He knew there was no way Rick didn’t hear it, and that thought alone was enough to spur him on. Fuck Rick. He hoped this was distracting enough to ruin his fun.

Soft hands were tugging his pants open and Morty let his head fall back against the door, more forceful than comfortable. But he was really, really dead set on disrupting Rick’s flow. Still, Morty wouldn’t look down. There was a very, very ugly face inches away from his cock. And as bad as he felt, he knew it would ruin the mood. He wasn’t racist or anything like that… He just knew aliens came in all varieties of looks. And this one got the short end of the stick. In his opinion.

Then Morty was falling. The ground slammed into his back, and head, before he could even scream out in surprise. Arms flailing wildly, he caught the front of the Alien’s skimpy shirt, pulling it down in the process. She didn’t seem to mind, but she didn’t follow Morty to the ground. He was almost afraid to look up, knowing a very angry Rick would be there. Yet his eyes couldn’t help themselves.

Rick was there, and he was angry. Morty scrambled up, practically tripping over the pants he had to hoist back up over his waist. The first thing he noticed was skin. A lot of it. Rick’s bare chest stared back at him like a slap to the face. Smooth skin where scars once were. Wiry muscle in place of the softer, more delicate body Morty had seen time and time again. A thick trail of hair leading downward, cut off by a pair of hastily buttoned up pants.

“Morty what the- what the hell?” Rick’s face was flushed red, and Morty couldn’t help but wonder if that was from the anger directed at him or the remnants of pleasure he had been feeling moments before. “You’re really that desperate? You can’t keep it in your pants for five fucking minutes?”

“Oh shut it, Rick. Like you’re any better. Bringing me to Hooker City for- for what? To be a look out you don’t need? Or do you really get you just need me here to get your rocks off, you sick fu-”

White hot pain seared across Morty’s face as Rick’s fist caught him in the nose. For a moment Morty was stunned enough to stare wildly at Rick before the rage flooded through him. Anger was a hell of a thing. Morty was on Rick before he could even think twice, hands flying wildly in an attempt to cause as much damage as possible before Rick subdued him.

“You little shit.” Rick growled, grabbing for Morty’s hands. Rick was fast, but for once in Morty’s mildly pathetic life he was faster. Three punches is all Morty managed to get in before he was on the floor once more, unsure of how he got there. And then the pain set in.

The entire left side of Morty’s face was on fire and he knew without a doubt Rick had fractured his cheek bone. It wasn’t his first time with that injury, but it was the first time it was inflicted by Rick. In fact, this was the first time the two of them had ever done something like this at all. In Morty’s opinion it had been a long time coming. Stupid Rick and his stupid attitude.

“Stay down.” Rick said as Morty tried pushing himself off the ground, still feeling the urge to tear Rick’s throat out. “I said. Stay. Down.”

Rough hands wrapped around his wrists, yanking them up and over his head. Sturdy thighs straddled his own, squeezing tightly around him. Morty tried thrashing but it was useless. Rick had been strong as an old man, but now he was practically an immovable force. And Morty was feeling a lot like an unstoppable object.

“Get the fuck off me, Rick.” Morty glared up at the face above him, noting the nasty welt growing on the side of Rick’s face. Pride surged through him at the realization the mark had come from him. It felt good to finally get back at Rick for being such an asshole all the time.

“W-what, so you can hit me again? I don’t think so.”

“You hit me first!” Morty tugged against Rick’s grip once more, knowing it was useless.

“Yeah cuz y-you’re being a cunt.”

“Oh I’m being a cunt? What about-” Morty’s words died on his tongue as his body thrashed once more trying to get out of Rick’s grasp. This time, however, Morty pushed at a different angle and brushed up against… “What the hell, Rick?”

Rick was still hard. And Morty had touched it. Feeling all the fight in his body extinguish in a flash, Morty let his body go limp under Rick. Angry eyes stared down into his, as if willing him to say something more. But what more could Morty say? He was confused to say the least.

“Oh you done now?” Rick sneered down at him, clearly choosing to ignore what Morty had just done. “You happy you tried ruining my night? For your information, Morty, this was a pit stop. I have more important business to do on this planet that I needed you for. You think I don’t want to try this body out? I-it’s practically new, Morty. Things are working better than they have in y-years.”

Rick rolled off Morty’s body, leaving him feeling cold. Then he was reaching for his lab coat that had been haphazardly thrown across a lamp. Silently, Morty watched as Rick grabbed the portal gun, shooting it at the space on the floor in between them. Morty didn’t spare the older man a second glance as he stepped into the swirling green abyss.


	3. Chapter 3

Morty had a lot on his mind and absolute zero motivation to think about any of it. The last thing he wanted to think about at all was Rick, but that was proving more and more difficult as the days went by. First it was ‘Morty, what happened to your face?’ from his Father. It was an easy enough lie. It was just another casualty of hanging out with Rick. Then it was ‘Morty, honey, I haven’t seen your Grandpa in a couple days, do you know what he’s up to?’ by his Mother. That one he didn’t have to lie about.

“Oh you know Rick. He’s probably out doing something stupid and dangerous somewhere.” Morty hoped it was enough to get her off his back. All he wanted was a bag of frozen peas for his face.

And as if forgetting Rick wasn’t hard enough, Morty got a constant reminder every time he looked in the mirror. Two big black eyes in slightly different stages of healing stared back at him. A swollen cheek that made it hard to see out of one eye had a thin line of split skin across it that was beginning to scab over. Then there was his nose, tilted slightly where Rick had broken it. Morty refused to see a Doctor, and hadn’t had the nerve to set it himself. It was a reminder to him exactly what Rick was capable of. Hopefully it would be a reminder to Rick of just how much of an asshole he was. Whenever he got the balls to come home. Besides, it gave him a more rugged look. And that was something Morty had been after for years.

More than once Morty thought of raiding Rick’s workshop for a healing salve or something of the sort. If memory served right, he could probably make one himself. It had been a while, but the knowledge was still probably in there. But he wanted to feel the pain. He wanted to hate Rick. But… He didn’t. No matter what Rick did to him Morty could never bring himself to hate Rick completely. Of course he still wanted to try and guilt Rick with his ugly, swollen face, but as the days went on that reality seemed less and less likely. Rick wasn’t coming home any time soon.

But maybe things were better that way. They hadn’t left things on a good note. Hell, Morty wasn’t even sure if Rick still wanted to hit him again or not. No doubt they’d fight more, though hopefully they could keep it argumentative and not physical. As therapeutic as it had been to throw down with Rick, the man had still kicked his ass and Morty didn’t want to do it again.

Plus there was still the unresolved issue of Morty brushing up against Rick’s hard on that he was desperately trying to ignore. Yeah Rick had been in the middle of god knows what with those hookers, so it was understandable. And sure, Morty had always suspected Rick had some weird thrill seeking fetish which meant a fight probably wouldn’t kill an already existing erection. But Morty’s issue wasn’t really with Rick and his situation. It was with himself.

The more he tried to ignore it, the more it pressed on his mind. Morty had touched Rick’s dick… and he liked it. The hot, hard weight of it pushing into his thigh, even if only for a second. It was wrong. It was gross. And Morty couldn’t bring himself to care, which was probably the most upsetting aspect of the whole ordeal. In fact, the only thing he really cared about was seeing Rick again. So maybe it was a good thing Rick hadn’t been back in a week. Morty just needed to relax.

But relaxing led to… complications. The first time he had the dream, Morty had woken up flushed and disgusted, completely ignoring the morning wood starting to grow in his underwear. The second time Morty had tried thinking of anything else to jerk off to, which failed, leaving him horny and uncomfortable. The third time Morty hid his face in his pillow as if it could hide the embarrassment of what he was doing from his empty room. Imagining himself pinned to the floor once more with Rick straddling his waist… Morty hadn’t cum that hard in a long time.

It was easier to ignore it all. So that’s what Morty did. He slept. He snacked. He played video games. He didn’t go into Rick’s workshop and wait for his return. He didn’t check in Rick’s room each night to see if he drunkenly stumbled his way home. And he didn’t let the creeping abandonment seep in. Rick was the one who needed Morty. Not the other way around. Morty didn’t have brainwaves to hide, or whatever bullshit excuse Rick had told him so many years ago. Morty was fine.

It was about a week later that Morty’s world came crashing in around him. Stumbling out of bed around noon, Morty headed to the kitchen, clad only in his boxers. Summer was at college. Mom was at work. And his Dad… well who knew where he was. Besides, he had changed Morty’s diapers. Seeing him shirtless wouldn’t kill Jerry now. Plus Morty hadn’t done laundry all week and he was running out of clean things to wear.

Morty was halfway to the kitchen cupboard full of cereal before he realized who was standing in front of it. Rick. Fuck. Like a deer caught in headlights the only thing Morty could do was stand and stare. Fuck, fuck. Sure, he wanted Rick back, and yeah he had a whole speech lined up for the occasion. But standing there practically naked in the kitchen still looking banged up and bruised, Morty felt raw and exposed. Especially with the ever present memory of Rick’s cock pressed to his thigh.

“R-R-Rick?” Morty clenched his fist in frustration. Stuttering wasn’t something he had done in years. Except when he was flustered. Like now.

Rick turned to face him, and immediately Morty noticed the mark he left on the older man’s face was gone. He had been so proud of it before. Now, he was glad he didn’t have it as a reminder.

“Geez, Kid. What happened to you?” Rick looked him over, frowning. Morty couldn’t tell if he had seriously forgotten or just playing dumb for some reason. Both were equally possible.

“You.” Morty avoided Rick’s eyes. He didn’t want to see what was there.

“What? Still? That w-was like two days ago, Morty. I have a room full of stuff that could heal you.” Rick dug in the cabinet searching for wafer cookies. It was the most consistent thing Morty had ever seen him eat.

“It’s been a week, Rick.”

“A week?” Rick glanced over his shoulder frowning even deeper. “You left your nose like that for a week, Morty? I don’t know… Anything I fix it with now will probably hurt.”

“So don’t.” It was barely a whisper, but Morty said it with all the force he could muster.

“Don’t?” Rick leaned against the counter, cookie halfway to his mouth. “Ok, dawg. I-it’s your face. And an upgrade if you ask me.”

“Yeah, I know, Rick.” Morty let his eyes drift to the floor once more. Of course Rick would be a dick about it.

“Aw, Geez, Morty. I-I-I never would’ve kicked your ass if I knew it would turn you into a sniveling bitch.” Rick scoffed at him before heading to the garage. That was just like Rick. Dishing out insults, then running away.

“Y-you-you know you don’t have to be such a dick all the time.” Ignoring the fact that he was still in his underwear, Morty followed Rick. He hadn’t seen the man in a week and they were already fighting.

“I don’t ‘have’ to do anything. I do what I want when I want.” He sat down at his bench, back to Morty.

“W-w-would it kill you to be nice for once?” Morty felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the question and was grateful Rick wasn’t looking at him.  
“It might. So it’s not worth the risk.”

Morty rolled his eyes, choosing to drop it. Of course Rick couldn’t be nice. He didn’t have a nice bone in his body. Well… he had a nice bone, but, uh, not like that…

“So, um.” Morty wrapped his arms across his chest in a sad attempt to cover himself. “Where were you?”

“Who knows. I was gone for a week apparently. I did get this though.” Rick pulled a marble sized glowing pink rock out of his coat. “No thanks to you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, man.” Morty glared at the rock, assuming it was what Rick had planned on getting after he banged those hookers. Apparently he did just fine without Morty afterall. 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Sweetheart.” Rick shrugged, popping the rock back into his pocket as Morty blushed deeper. He wasn’t exactly sure when Rick picked up the nickname, but he was starting to like it.


	4. Chapter 4

If there was a Hell, Morty was going to it. For many reasons, obviously, but mainly for what he was doing now. Which was wrong and dirty on so many levels. For one, he was making a mess on his freshly cleaned sheets. A puddle of lube the size of his head leaked from the open bottle he had knocked over at some point but didn’t care enough to pick back up. The other thing sending him to hell in a hand basket was what he was jerking off to.

“Ohhhhhhhh, Rick.” Morty moaned into his pillow. Face down and ass up, he was sure he’d give anyone a heart attack if they were to walk in on him. But nobody would. Morty was home alone, he’d made sure of it. Plus he checked like three times to make sure his door was locked.

The dildo hit his prostate, dragging a high pitched moan from deep within him. Morty bit the pillow, slowing his pace. He wasn’t ready to cum yet. He wanted to make this last. Especially since he hadn’t had alone time like this in a very long time.

In reality Morty was kneeling on his bed jackhammering his brand new dildo into his ass. In his mind it was Rick pounding him into the mattress. 

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck.” Morty picked up the pace once more, keeping it steady, yet teasing. He needed to make this last. It was just so hard, especially with the ever growing crush he had on Rick. It was stupid. But the more time he spent with the man, the more he fantasized. And there were a lot of fantasies. Rick fucking him up against a wall. Rick bending him over the workbench in the garage. Rick fucking his face. Rick slamming him down on his cock. Rick using him in every way possible. But this was one of his favorites. Rick fucking him into the mattress until Morty cried and begged to cum. It wasn’t something he had ever pegged himself for, but Morty just couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

“Ohhhhh yessssssss, Rick.” The name seemed so wrong coming out of his mouth, but so right. Still, Morty could barely say it above a whisper. He didn’t plan on anyone coming home any time soon… But it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He could only imagine what his Mother would say if she left work early and came home to hear her son screaming her fathers name as he fucked himself up the ass. Or Rick himself… That wasn’t something Morty could even think about. Yes he wanted Rick to fuck him… But figuratively. If Rick ever found out, Morty would never let it down. He wasn’t sure what Rick would actually do, the man was too much of a wild card. Still, he knew it wouldn’t be good. Brutal harassment. Excommunication. Or maybe Rick would simply beat him up again. 

A thick glob of precum dripped from Morty’s cock. He hadn’t been this hard in so long. He couldn’t wait to cum. But saving it was good, too.

“Fuck, Rick.” Morty imagined strong hands on his waist, gripping him tight. Hard enough to leave bruises only the two of them would know about. It was that thought that sent Morty over the edge. Sensing he had finally hit the point of no return, Morty slammed the dildo into himself faster, angling it directly into his prostate with each thrust. “Oh fuck. Yes, Rick. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Rick.”

Morty went limp in bed, dildo still shoved in his ass. Laying in a puddle of cum and lube was one of the least comfortable things Morty had ever done, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. Warmth spread throughout his body along with a hint of drowsiness. Morty should get up and take a shower before everyone got home. But dragging himself out of bed just seemed impossible. Until he heard a cupboard slam in the kitchen.

Jolting out of his post-orgasmic daze, Morty grabbed a shirt off the floor in an attempt to clean up. He really should have brought a towel or something. Next time he would. Grabbing the now half empty bottle of lube and the sticky dildo, Morty slammed them into the dresser drawer, knowing they’d need to be cleaned later. For now he needed to clean himself and his sheets before whoever was downstairs decided to barge in his room. It was an occurrence that happened far too often in his opinion. 

Throwing on the nearest pajama bottoms and forgoing a shirt, Morty swung open his door and flew down the hall to the bathroom hoping he could get there without being seen. And by some miracle it worked. Or so he thought until he jiggled the locked bathroom door handle.

“Ocupado.” Rick’s gruff voice called out from the other side of the door. Fuck. That was the last person Morty wanted to see like this.

“S-s-sorry Rick.” Morty was turning to run back to his room and hide when he heard the lock click. Fuck.

“Morty. I’ve been looking all over for you. I-I-I need to ask you-” Rick’s sentence was cut off as his eyes landed on Morty.

Mortification flooded every inch and crevasse of his body. He knew what he must look like. Hair standing wildly at attention in the places it wasn’t stuck to his sweaty forehead. A deep blush all the way from his face to his still heaving chest. Pajama bottoms that had been haphazardly thrown on backwards in his haste to clean up. There was no way Rick didn’t know what he had been doing. In an attempt to find anything to look at besides Rick, Morty let his eyes fall to the floor, choosing to stare at what he assumed was a speck of dirt. The silence was deafening. Not that he wanted Rick to make fun of him or anything, but it was almost preferable to him saying nothing at all.

“H-Hey Rick. I just-I just was about to get in the shower.” Morty waited, unmoving. He couldn’t get into the bathroom unless Rick moved. And at this point, he probably also couldn’t leave the conversation unless Rick ended it.

“Uh huh.” Rick’s shoes entered Morty’s line of sight as the man moved past him, giving him a clear path to the bathroom. Without hesitation he made a beeline for the door, closing it as soon as his body crossed the threshold. Much to Morty’s dismay, he felt resistance on the other side. “Woah, h-hold up, Morty.”

Morty rubbed his face in exasperation, then pulled away, letting Rick swing the door back open. This time Morty glanced up at the older man, taking a deep breath to steady himself as he did so. His stomach churned as he saw a hint of something he didn’t quite recognize in Rick’s crystal blue eyes. Preparing himself for only the worst insults, Morty was surprised to see Rick smile.

“H-hey Morty, I, uh, have a way to fix that nose of yours. W-wont even hurt a bit.” Rick lifted a hand up as if to touch the area for himself, then shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “You know, if-if you’re interested.”

“No thanks Rick.” Morty let his own hand drift up to the area, touching tentatively. Not that it hurt anymore, but he was still careful around it just in case. It had hurt for the longest time after Rick broke it. In fact, he was surprised Rick was still trying to fix it. Morty had gown so accustomed to the slight curvature of his nose that he hardly ever thought about it anymore.

“Yeah, ok.” Rick frowned at him, looking like he wanted to say more. Instead he took a step back and grinned. “And just so you know, I’m headed back out for a while. Incase you wanna finish your little jerk fest or whatever.”

Rather than answer, Morty just slammed the door, internally groaning as he did so. Of course Rick had to go and say something like that. Rick was such an ass. Still… Morty couldn’t ignore the way his cock twitched at the thought of Rick basically giving him permission to touch himself. And as fucked up as it was, Morty knew he’d be adding that to the list of little fantasies that had been growing in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Morty was a simple man with simple tastes. He liked video games, he hated reading, and apparently he was an absolute slut for gold hoop earrings. The first two were things he had known for ages. The last one came as a surprise, but at this point in his life, it wasn’t really a disappointment. The earring itself was so small Morty hardly noticed it at first. But once he did, he could’ve jumped Rick’s bones then and there.

“R-Rick?” Morty asked hesitantly, doing his best to ignore the way his cock sprang to life. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” Rick halfheartedly mumbled, barely looking up from the tangle of wires and plugs in his hands. Morty wasn’t sure what he was doing, and if he had to guess, he’d say Rick wasn’t either.

“The, um, t-the earring. Since when…” But what exactly was he trying to ask? Since when did you get so hot? So sexy? So bad? Well, Rick had always been bad. It was just recently that he started seeing it as ‘bad boy’ rather than ‘bad grandpa.’

“I-I’ve always had this, Morty.” Rick said passively, as if answering him was more of an inconvenience than it was worth. Yet, Morty could see the excitement in his eyes. There was a story there and Morty wanted to hear it. All it took was a little nudge and Rick was dragging out a photo album so old Morty almost made fun of it until he saw the pictures inside.

The Flesh Curtains. Rick’s band that Morty had only heard about in passing and never cared enough to ask more about before. Pictures, fliers, paraphernalia. Morty could have creamed his pants then and there. Finding the perfect angle to stand at in order to hide his growing chub, he let his eyes roam over each and every page begging his dick not to get fully hard, yet unable to stop looking at the material before him.

A shirt cut so low that Morty didn’t see a point to wearing one at all adorned Rick’s chest, showing a delicately thin layer of chest hair that practically screamed to be tugged on. Even the vest, which Morty never would have connected with sexy suddenly piqued his interest. It looked good on Rick, but he knew it would look so much better off of him, laying on the floor or flung across a lamp in the haste to undress. But the best part by far was the jewelry. A thick black choker clung to Rick’s neck so tight that it made Morty wonder whether or not he could see it move if he were to fuck Rick’s throat. The spiked bracelet screamed rock in a way Morty wasn’t accustomed to finding sexy, and his brain filled with images of watching it fly rapidly up and down while Rick jerked him off.

Then there was the earring. Tiny, gold, and oddly provocative. Morty couldn’t figure out why he was so attracted to it. But he was. He wanted to climb in Rick’s lap and nip at the ear lobe that held that tiny piece of metal. Morty felt the strangest urge to taste it, which was only one of many strange urges he was feeling toward his Grandpa these days.

“Gee, Rick. I-I-I- uh, thats neat.” Morty stared over Rick’s shoulder at the pictures, feeling his cheeks grow hot. Standing so close to Rick wasn’t helping his situation at all. Thankfully Rick didn’t seem like he was in the mood to talk. He just grumbled out another annoyed noise as he worked on the tangle of wires that seemed to be even more wild than before. “I always forget that you’re in a- that you were in a band.”

“W-what can I say? Grandpa’s got a bunch of talents.” Morty frowned. Ever since Rick had de-aged himself he seemed to start calling himself Grandpa more. It wasn’t a reminder Morty wanted to hear. “Some you don’t even know about.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Rick probably had a million ‘talents’ Morty had never even seen in their years together. Yet all Morty could think of was sexual talents. He knew Rick was great in bed. They had spent enough time together that Morty had both heard the sounds of pleasure behind closed doors or talked to Rick’s lovers who loved to over share with the man’s Grandson.

“So why did you guys stop playing?” Morty opted out of discussing Rick’s ‘talents’ choosing instead to talk about the band he had heard so little about.

“I-I don’t know, Morty. We got old. Moved on with our lives. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess.” He shifted through the box Rick dragged out. Inside were a few things he didn’t recognize, most of which were embroidered with the Flesh Curtains logo, as well as a few things he did. One of which was a soft black band t-shirt that Morty knew he would be stealing as soon as the opportunity arose. Another was a small electronic device remnant of an ipod. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like, Morty?” Rick snatched the device from his hand, fiddled with it for a second, then plugged it into one of his super chargers. Within seconds the screen was flashing on with a 100% charged notification. “Here, take these.”

Rick handed Morty the device back along with a pair of headphones the boy didn’t even see him pull out in the first place. Figuring the device out was simple enough. In all reality it was basically just a knock off ipod. Of course nothing Rick made was a ‘knock off’, and he knew it must have some sort of hidden high tech function. Scrolling through, Morty saw a lot of unrecognizable songs. Then he saw the band.

“Oh, no way Rick. Is-is this you?” An unexplainable tingly sensation started in the pit of his stomach as he looked at song title after song title.

“Yeah, knock yourself out, Kid.” Rick waved a hand at him, as if shooing him out of the garage before turning back to his project at the work bench.

Morty, seeing his chance, silently slipped one of the pictures of Rick out of the photo album along with the Flesh Curtain t-shirt from the box. He doubted the man would ever know they were missing. And if he did… Well that was a problem for future Morty to deal with. For now he was going to go lock himself in his bedroom, change into his new shirt and jerk off to the sluttiest picture of his Grandpa he could have ever imagined, all while listening to his new favorite band, the Flesh Curtains.


	6. Chapter 6

The vial sat on Morty’s desk looking strange and out of place. He had been staring at it with apprehension for the past five minutes, racking his brain with what it could possibly be. It was small enough that he might not have noticed it at all if he hadn’t nearly knocked it over after slamming the drawer to his nightstand shut. If it wasn’t his, and he was definitely sure he had never seen the vial in his life before, then it must be Rick’s. And if it belonged to Rick, then it could be anything from a new moisturizer to a vanishing cream to anything and everything in between. As a general rule Morty was reluctant to use anything of Rick’s he hadn’t seen the man himself use first. 

Hesitantly, he grabbed the vial and headed to the garage. With any luck Morty would be able to sneak past everyone without notice on his way to Rick. It wasn’t that he was avoiding his family, especially not Summer who was home for vacation, he just didn’t want to answer their questions. And lately, all they had for Morty was questions. About college. About a job. About a girlfriend. About hanging out with someone other than Rick for a change. Frankly, Morty was getting tired of it.

“Rick?” Morty called out as he opened the garage door, thankful that he hadn’t seen a single soul in the house yet.

“Morty, quick, I need a hand with this.” Rick’s voice called from somewhere in the garage. Where, Morty wasn’t sure of, because he couldn’t see the man. Giving the room another quick scan, he spotted two legs sticking out from under the Cruiser.

“Aw man, Rick. You know I’m not good with cars.” Morty dropped the vial down on the workbench before scrambling over to the older man’s side, taking a quick inventory of the tools scattered at his feet. He recognized all of them, which was a relief. Sometimes Rick used alien tools and had a habit of getting angry if Morty handed him the wrong thing.

“Good thing this is a space cruiser and not a car.”

“Not any better with space ships, Rick.” Morty rolled his eyes, squatting down and taking the metallic object out of Rick’s outstretched hand.

For the next half hour or so Morty stayed like that, eventually opting to sit on the filthy ground when his thighs started to burn. Passing tools back and forth was something he was used to by now, and Morty was almost glad for the simple task. Rick’s adventures were fun, mostly, but sometimes it was nice to just sit back and relax. Well, relax as much as he could with Rick grumbling swears in every language he knew from under the Cruiser.

“Hand me a rag, Morty.” Rick demanded, and Morty could have rolled his eyes once more. He wasn’t sure what exactly Rick was trying to fix, but he could tell it was just about time to take a break. Rick just had that tone to his voice and Morty knew if he fucked up now all hell would break loose.

“Uh… I don’t see one, Rick.” Morty’s eyes flashed across the objects on the floor, then panned outward to the surrounding areas. Fuck.

“Oh come on, M-Morty. How hard can it be to find a rag?” Rick’s leg twitched out in frustration.

“There’s no rag here!” Morty ran a hand through his hair.

“Well I need something.” Rick placed such an emphasis on the word ‘something’ that Morty almost laughed as an idea popped into his head.

“What, like, the shirt off my back?” He rolled his eyes, moving to stand up in search for a proper rag when Rick’s reply came.

“Y-yeah that’ll work.”

“What?” Morty froze, unsure of himself. He had only been joking. Looking back on it, that was clearly a mistake. Of course Rick wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care about the unusual material. He wouldn’t care about ruining Morty’s shirt. And he definitely wouldn’t care about the way Morty’s stomach was starting to twist at the thought of taking off his clothes for his own Grandpa.

“Morty, hurry up, I need something and I need it now.”

“But,” With heat rising in his cheeks, Morty shed his shirt as fast as he could. He was being ridiculous, he knew that. How many times had Rick seen him shirtless? It had never bothered him before. But now? All he could think about was just how undesirable his body was in his own eyes. Would Rick think so, too? Probably. But not in the way Morty was thinking. He knew the only thing Rick would see is his pain-in-the-ass Grandson hindering his scientific endeavors to bitch about something as silly as personal possessions. Which didn’t stop Morty from doing so anyways. “You’ll ruin my shirt, Rick.”

“S-sorry, Sweetheart.” The nickname was jarring enough that Morty could almost gloss over snarky remark that followed. “But you’ll just have to grab one of your other yellow shirts. What do you have, like a million of these?”

“Shut up. You wear the same clothes every day, too.” Morty let his arms fold across his chest in an attempt to cover himself as Rick rolled himself out from under the cruiser.

“The difference, Morty, is that I make it look good. You just look lazy.” Rick sat up right, and for a second, Morty could have sworn his eyes lingered for just a few seconds too long. The thought made him flush more. Morty was used to being uncomfortable in his skin, but he wasn’t used to it being because of Rick.

“W-w-whatever, Rick.” Morty’s tongue grew heavy in his mouth as he took in the sight of Rick in a tank top. It was something he rarely got to see, and he couldn’t help but feel equally thankful as he was upset for that. Upset because Rick looked like a dream, and not being able to see that view on a daily basis was essentially a crime. And thankful that he wasn’t submitted to that every day because he knew it would drive him crazy.

Even now Morty had a hard time not touching. Skin. Soft, smooth, pale. He wanted to run his hands, and tongue, up and down every inch of uncovered skin he could see on the older man. Which was ridiculous, because it made him feel like a victorian man getting horny over seeing a sliver of a woman’s bare ankle. But as funny as it was, Morty couldn’t laugh, being too preoccupied by the thought of Rick fucking him on the garage floor.

“So, uh-” Morty let his eyes drift up to Rick’s face, feeling his own heat up as he did so. A streak of what he could only assume was oil ran across the man’s cheekbone, perfectly framing it as well as making the blue of his eyes truly pop. “The vial.”

It was a miracle he could think of anything other than Rick’s body, much less the actual reason he had come down to see the man in the first place. Morty lifted a knee up, using it as an extra buffer to hide his body from Rick’s intense gaze. There was something in those eyes, but Morty couldn’t decide what. He figured it must just be his imagination making him see things from the combination of being embarrassed and horny.

“Wh-what vial?” Rick asked, wiping his greasy hands on Morty’s shirt before he balled it up and threw it to the ground.

“The one y-you left in my room?” He wasn’t sure if Rick was playing dumb or not. How many vials did Rick have lying around that he thought Morty might mention?

“Oh that.” Rick let out a belch that sounded borderline painful. “It’s to fix your nose.”

“My nose.” A flare of anger rippled through Morty, nullifying any embarrassment he originally felt for his partial nudity. “I already told you I didn’t want my nose fixed because there’s nothing wrong with it. You just never listen.”

Pushing himself off the ground, Morty didn’t even spare Rick another glance. Of course Rick was trying to fix it still, regardless of being told not to. The man never listened, and Morty was a fool for thinking he might start now. At least he could be smug in knowing Rick hated looking at it. He hoped it made the older man feel guilty, though deep down he knew that probably wasn’t the case.

“I don’t listen?” Rick’s voice had changed into a strange mix of seething and incredulousness. A hand grabbed at his wrist, holding him in place and Morty’s stomach dropped. The last time Rick had put his hands on him, he ended up with a broken nose. “M-m-morty all I do is listen.”

“So stop trying to fix my nose. I like it like this, Rick.” Morty said, refusing to turn around to look at Rick. The man still sat on the floor, hand gripped tightly around Morty’s wrist in order to make sure the boy didn’t storm out on him.

“Whatever. I could care less how you look, sweetheart.” Rick scoffed at him, making Morty’s stomach churn once more. He was angry and upset, yet being called sweetheart threatened to make his knees weak. Had anyone been privy to the emotional turmoil taking place in his head, he would have been mortified. Instead, Morty just clenched his fists shut and stared at the door just out of reach. “I’m only doing this as a favor to your Mom. Something about you looking hideous or whatever. A disgrace to the family. I don’t agree with her, of course. Broken noses are cool. It makes you look tough.”

“You know what, man-” Morty snapped, turning his body to look Rick in the eyes as he yelled at him. He had some nerve mocking Morty for something that had been his fault in the first place. The rest of his sentence died on his tongue as he stared down at Rick’s face. 

It was an expression Morty had seen maybe a handful of times in his life. Rick was being genuine. He was saying something nice without wrapping it in an insult or following it up with a cruel joke. Morty could tell just by how uncomfortable the other man looked. Rick wasn’t used to being nice to people. Morty wasn’t used to it ether. The two just stared at each other until Rick smirked.

“Makes me wonder what happened to the other guy.”

Rolling his eyes, Morty couldn’t help but chuckle. Attempting to pull his wrist out of Rick’s hand, Morty frown when the grip tightened.

“Help me up first.”

“Help you up?” Morty questioned it as he let hs hand slide into Rick’s for a better grip. “You’re like thirty, do you really need help getting off the floor?”

“Grandpa’s always had bad knees, Morty.” Rick said, raising an eyebrow at the way Morty effortlessly pulled him into a standing position. Stumbling forward a step, the two ended up closer than Morty was comfortable being. Especially since he was still shirtless and Rick was still hot, despite being a major dick. “It’s probably because I’m always on them.”

Morty tried keeping a straight face as twitch shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking of his own grandfather like that, especially not when he was inches away from the man, staring up into his blue eyes, shirtless and flushed.

“Dad? Morty? I’m home. Come help with the groceries.” Beth’s voice called from outside, snapping Morty out of his daze and causing him to take a big step back, almost tripping over who knows what in the process. Catching himself on the work bench, Morty fled from the garage in search of a new shirt, leaving the vial and a mischievous looking Rick behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Morty was fucked. All time mega screwed. If he could find a black hole he’d jump in and disappear forever. Whatever horrendous spaghettification process a black hole would bring on would be a million times less painful than his current situation.

“What are you wearing?” Rick asked him, staring down at the boy’s body as he reached a hand out to hoist Morty out of bed. He had only been awake for a few seconds, but Morty felt as if he was still dreaming. This had to be a nightmare. It just had to be.

“R-Rick.” Was the only word he could form as his unusually dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt so hot and uncomfortable. Yeah, this definitely was a nightmare. Because if it wasn’t, Morty would find the nearest bridge and jump off.

Blue eyes roamed across his body, solidifying the mortification welling inside of him. Morty ripped his arm out of Rick’s grasp, wrapping it around the front of his own body in a desperate attempt to shield his shirt from those amused prying eyes. His entire body felt hot. Even though his mind was going a mile a minute, things seemed as if they were going in slow motion. Morty was waiting for Rick to say something, anything. Yet, he knew Rick was still waiting for an answer to his question. As if the answer wasn’t clear enough for the both of them.

It had been an accident. Really, it was. Hell, Morty rarely ever slept in shirts at all. But putting on the old Flesh Curtains shirt he stole from Rick while he jerked himself off had become somewhat of a habit. Morty was just so exhausted lately that he must have accidentally fell asleep after his dirty deed was done. And Rick had woken him up hours later for an adventure, catching him red handed with the stolen merchandise that was very likely to be the death of him. Because Morty just might fucking kill himself now.

“It’s not- It’s not what it looks like.” He said weakly, not knowing what else he could say. Of course it was exactly what it looked like, but what else was he supposed to tell Rick? He was still waiting for the man to tear into him mercilessly and make fun of him.

“Oh really, Morty? Because it looks to me like you stole a precious momento from your Dear Grandpa.” Rick quirked an eyebrow down at him with an impassive face. It was unsettling. Morty would much rather have him doubled over in laughter as he harassed him. Even anger would be better than this. An unreadable Rick was a worrisome Rick.

“Well yeah, but-” His brain stalled for an excuse, cracking under the pressure of Rick’s gaze. He let his head fall down so Rick wouldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall. Morty had never handled embarrassment well. And right now he was so embarrassed that he wanted to shrivel up and die. 

“But what, Morty? I don’t know what’s worse, having my Grandson steal from me or having to watch to watch him cry about it like a little- like a little bitch.”

One tear. Two tears. Three tears and a nasty sounding sniffle. Morty tried his hardest not to cry, but the harder he tried, the more his shoulders shook with silent sobs. When he took the shirt from Rick he knew the man would make his life a living hell if he ever found out. But Morty had always figured he’d make fun of him, and for some reason that had been preferable to what was happening now. Slowly Morty unfolded his arms, reaching for the hem of the shirt, pulling it up in a fluid motion to take the cursed item off.

“Geez, Kid.” Rick’s hands fell on Morty’s arms once more, halting their action. “It was- i-it was a fucking joke. Christ, Morty. I’m not gunna make you take it off.”

Morty couldn’t help but look up at Rick, searching his eyes for something. Cruelty, hinting at some unseen impending joke? Amusement at just how easy it was to break Morty? Disgust at the display of tears? Something else entirely that would make this situation even worse than it already was, though Morty wasn’t sure how that would be possible? Instead he only saw concern. It wasn’t something he was used to seeing on Rick’s face at all, much less directed at him. Especially not in a ridiculous situation like this.

“When did you get so damn sensitive?” Rick frowned gently down at him without a trace of anger on his face. “I was going to make fun of you next but I don’t want- Guess that’s out the window, too.”

Morty let go of the shirt, letting it fall back against his body. His stomach fluttered at the feeling of Rick’s lanky fingers against his skin for seconds longer than they needed to be. When the older man finally pulled away it left Morty feeling flushed hot and ice cold simultaneously.

“I know you’re in the habit of taking your shirt off around me lately, Sweetheart,” Rick winked at Morty, sending a shock through the boys body at the unexpected action. “But right now I need you to put on some pants and get in the cruiser. We have work to do and we’re running out of time.”

Rick pulled up his sleeve, looking at the three watches on his arm for dramatic effect before waltzing out of the room, leaving Morty in a state of shock behind him.

‘What the Hell just happened?’ Was the only thing Morty could ask himself on repeat in his head as he went through the motions of dressing himself. By the time he had jeans and shoes on and was walking into the garage he still didn’t have an answer for himself. Sure, he was baffled and mystified that Rick had backed down so fast. He had never seen the man do that so quickly, especially not when it came to making Morty cry. 

But while that was confusing, it was nothing compared to the shameless flirting his Grandpa had done with him. Or at least, he thought it was flirting. But he had to be wrong, right? Rick would never do that. First of all, that would be weird. Like, Rick was consistently a shitty human being, but even he must have some reservations. It was probably just Morty’s own sick twisted incestuous thougths mixing toxicly with Rick’s new nickname for him. Yeah, that had to be it. Because the more Morty thought about it, the more he could take Rick’s comment and twist it into an insult. Of course Rick had just been making fun of him because it was the second time in a week the man had seen Morty take off his shirt. That must be it. Because THAT made sense. 

Still, he couldn’t help the tingle that shot through his body as he let the interaction play through his mind again. That wink had just been so natural that Morty couldn't help but think that maybe his feelings were, too. Even if only for a second.


	8. Chapter 8

Morty was surprised to say the least. Shocked and amazed, but a little baffled, too. He had been with Rick for hours on some dingy little planet looking for some stupid flower that only bloomed during a two hour period at this time of the year, having the worst time of his life, and not once did the man make fun of his shirt. Morty originally regretted not changing out of it immediately after being caught, figuring as time went on Rick would let the snarky comments sneak out slowly as he became angrier. But he watched Rick bitch and mumble and yell about everything and anything except the Flesh curtains t-shirt Morty wore. It was odd, but slightly… endearing. Though Morty wasn’t sure why.

It was like Rick was doing everything in his power to not make fun of it, which must have been hard considering he kept looking at it. Morty didn’t think much of it at first, but after the fifth time he caught Rick staring at him when he thought the boy wasn’t paying attention, he figured the older man must be roasting him in his head. Morty was impressed with Rick’s ability to keep those comments to himself, considering the man never really had a verbal filter before. Maybe it was something newly acquired with his recent non-oldage.

Despite not finding the right flower until the very last possible second and having to listen to Rick’s near melt down about it, Morty had a better time hanging out with the man than he had in a long time. And then Jerry ripped the mood out from under him like a shitty magician with a tablecloth.

“Wow Morty, who knew you were cut out for the groupie life?” Jerry’s voice cut into him the second he walked into the house. Internally Morty let off a string of ‘shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up.’ Externally he just stared at his Father. Things hadn’t always been so bad between them. Jerry liked to blame Rick. Morty liked to blame the fact that neither of them had jobs and saw way too much of each other on a daily basis. There was a good chance that it might be a mix of the two. “I think it’s comical.”

“Uh huh.” Morty stared past the man, heading for the kitchen. He and Rick had been gone for hours and judging by the light coming in through the windows it was well past breakfast time. A lot more food and a lot less Jerry was his ideal situation right now.

“A little ridiculous, though.” Jerry told him, oblivious to Morty’s attempt to ignore him. 

“And why is that, Jerry?” Rick said as he walked in to the kitchen next to Morty. No doubt he had been on his way to raid the cupboards for wafer cookies before he decided to pick a fight with Jerry. And it would be a fight. Morty could tell by the tone in the older man’s voice. Rick barely tolerated Jerry and his tone was a reflection of that. It was constantly condescending to the point of being uncomfortable to onlookers. Except when Rick was in a more standoffish mood. He was a little less mocking and a little more mean. Morty braced himself for an argument.

“Because it is.” Jerry said in stupid voice, feigning dignancy. Morty didn’t even know why Rick wanted to argue about this, but he knew Jerry should just stand down now. He also knew that probably wouldn’t happen.

“Why, Jerry?” Rick took out his flask, draining it before burping loudly in Jerry’s direction. Morty noticed that Rick drank a lot less now that he was in a younger body. He did his signature burps even less than that. Meaning his current display was solely to piss Jerry off. Morty bit back a smile.

Instead of giving an answer, any answer at all no matter how stupid it was, Jerry just fumbled over his words. Morty rolled his eyes, feigning interest in the cereal he was slowly putting together.

“What, you think it’s funny that he has great taste in music? Or-or that he’s supporting his Grandpa? Or that he looks stupid or something?” Rick flung a hand out gesturing at Morty. “Well fuck you Jerry, I think he looks great.”

Even though Morty knew Rick was just trying to pick a fight with Jerry, he couldn’t help but squirm at the compliment. Rick said he looked great. It wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop him from blushing. 

“You just think he looks great because it’s your band.” Jerry rolled his eyes. It was a mistake. Rick really hated when Jerry rolled his eyes.

“Y-y-yeah and? Still looks good. But if you’re so jealous, Jerry,” Rick said the man’s name with venom as he took a step toward Jerry, making him take one step back in response. “Then maybe you should have done something with your life instead of wasting it as a useless piece of garbage. What? Would you prefer Morty wear a shirt that says- that says ‘Oh wow I sure love the pathetic piece of human waste that knocked up my Mother!’? Because that’s the only thing you’ve ever accomplished in your life.”

There was a time where Morty might have felt bad for his father for having to deal with Rick’s cruel words. But there were times when the man deserved it, now being a prime example. He could see the defiance on Jerry’s face and knew he wasn’t about to back down. The situation was absolutely ridiculous in his opinion, but that didn’t make it any less entertaining. Jerry should have just kept his mouth shut and they could have avoided this whole thing.

But as entertaining as it was, Morty was tired. Rick had woken him up in the middle of the night, after all. And as much as he’d like to see Rick tear Jerry a new one, he would also like to eat his cereal in peace and then take a nap. Doing his best to ignore the bickering from the other side of the table, Morty grabbed his bowl and snuck off to his bedroom as quiet as he could. He didn’t need either of the men seeing him make his escape and trying to keep him there as a pawn for their argument.

Morty managed to make it to his room, finish his breakfast, and crawl under the covers for a quick nap before Rick was barging through his bedroom door unannounced once more.

“What the hell, Rick? W-would it kill you to knock?” Morty grumbled, sitting up. He had been asking his Grandpa to knock for years, and knew the man wasn’t about to start now.

“These are for you.” Rick told him, ignoring the question as he placed a box in his lap, looking slightly annoyed.

“What is it?” Morty asked, hesitantly digging through the items in front of him. A wave of confusion washed over him as he pulled out countless Flesh Curtain items he had never seen before. It made Morty wonder just how much memorabilia Rick had kept from his band.

“A giant ‘fuck you’ to Jerry.” Rick told him, angrily plopping down at the foot of the bed.

Morty sifted through the assortment of items in front of him. Posters, bracelets, CD’s, among other things. Maybe he should be offended that Rick only shared this stuff with him to get back at Jerry. But Morty genuinely had grown to like his Grandpa's old band and was appreciative of the merchandise. Especially since this was essentially permission from Rick to wear anything in the box free of consequence. He hoped.

“You got a real piece of shit for a father, you know that, right?”

“Y-yeah, Rick.”

“I’d love to bash his face in if he looked just a little less like you.”

“What?” Morty’s eyes flicked up to Rick’s, catching a glimpse of surprise in the other man’s face, as if he didn’t mean to say that.

“What, you think you look like Beth? Like me? S-s-sorry to burst your bubble, Morty, but that face of yours has Jerry written all over it.” Rick adverted his gaze, instead choosing to focus on the sleeve of his labcoat where a tiny string had started to fray.

“You don’t even look like Mom.” Morty pointed out stupidly. The thought of Rick sharing Beth’s face was enough to make him cringe. It was a small comfort to know that no matter how fucked up he was, at least he didn’t want to fuck his own Mother. 

“Yeah, well fortunately for Beth she looks like her Mother. And unfortunately for you, you look like Jerry.” Rick’s words cut him deep. The resemblance between him and Jerry was always something he had been aware of. But having Rick bring it up left a knot deep in the pit of his stomach. Rick hated Jerry with a passion. Morty didn’t like the fact that Rick might hate looking at his face because it resembled Jerry’s so closely. 

“Wow, Rick, just call me ugly why don’t you?” He forced a smile on to his face, trying to play it off as a joke. There wasn’t much else he could do. Rick would never understand why Morty was so upset at his words.

“Don’t let it bother you too much, Kid. Anyone with my genes can’t be too ugly.” Rick looked back up at Morty, smirking. “Besides, Summer looks more like Jerry than you do. And trust me, you wear it a lot better than she does.”

Despite the crushing thoughts seeping into his mind of Rick finding him hideous, Morty couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, he hated looking like Jerry, but Summer absolutely despised it. They both go the short end of the stick as far as looks went. It wasn’t that Jerry was particularly ugly. He was just… Jerry.

“Ah, gee, t-thanks, I guess.” Morty sighed, taking one last quick peak through the box of stuff in his lap. Something caught his eye, causing him to tense up in realization of what it was. Slowly he reached out, letting his fingers caress the black leather as he pulled out the object he had only seen in photos. Rick’s choker. “Uh..”

“Y-y-yeah, I didn’t peg you for the collar type, but I think it looks cool. W-why do you think I wore it? Be careful, though. It can get pretty tight. Don’t wanna choke yourself out.” Rick’s was suddenly too close for comfort. Morty figured he must be cherry red, but at least the box was covering the steadily growing bulge in his pants. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing, Sweetheart.”

The image of Rick’s hand wrapped tightly around Morty’s throat flashed through his mind leaving him breathless. Fuck. Morty’s cock strained against his pants, begging to be freed. Begging to be touched. Instead, Morty just laughed the comment off, looking at anything but Rick. This man was going to be the death of him. But maybe Morty was okay with that.


	9. Chapter 9

“I’m telling you it’s down there, Beth.” Jerry’s voice cut through the house as soon as Morty opened his bedroom door. Rolling his eyes, he made his way toward the commotion. Morty wasn’t sure what Jerry was arguing about this time, but he did know it was way too early in the morning for it. Or afternoon. He wasn’t really sure of the time, but either way, he didn’t want to deal with Jerry.

“And why would my Dad have your good mixing bowl? Huh, Jerry? That doesn’t even make sense!” Beth yelled back. Oh great. As much as he loved both of his parents he wished they had gone through with a divorce years ago. Whether it was the first time or the fiftieth time they had brought it up, they should have just gone through with it. All they did was argue, and frankly Morty was sick of it.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe for Science stuff!”

“Science stuff? Yeah sure, that makes sense. There’s a million bowls in the house, but my Dad wanted the only one you need right now. Just listen to yourself, Jerry. You sound insane.” Morty rolled his eyes. He thought they both sounded a little insane.

“Really, Beth? Because my good bowl is gone. If Rick doesn’t have it then who does?”

“You probably just didn’t look hard enough.” 

“It’s in the garage, I know it. Move, I’m going to go get MY mixing bowl back out of MY garage.”

“He doesn’t want you in there when he’s not home, Jerry.”

“It’s my house, Beth!”

Saving them both from further argument, Morty rounded the corner into the living room where he saw both his parents. Beth stood in front of the door with her arms folded across her chest, barring Jerry entry. And Jerry, refusing to back down was tugging at the door handle, despite Beth’s foot wedged firmly against the door holding it shut. The two of them tensed at the sight of him, confirming the fact that they had assumed Morty was off with Rick somewhere.

“Morty! Good morning. I didn’t know you were still in bed, sleepyhead.” Beth smiled at him from across the room. It was the same fake politeness she had been giving him for a few weeks now. He wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but he hated it.

“Y-yeah, Mom. Late night.” It was a partial truth. He had stayed up late last night, but he hadn’t actually been doing anything. Just waiting for Rick to come home. The man had been gone for a full day now. Morty wasn’t sure where he had gone or why, but he could safely say it wasn’t his fault this time. It still hurt, having Rick just bolt in and out of his life as he pleased, but at least he wasn’t driving the other man away. For now. 

“Morty. Perfect. He can go get my bowl.” Jerry sneered at his wife, looking unhappy with his situation. Morty supposed he couldn’t blame him. It was Jerry’s house after all. He should be able to look through it as he pleased. But everyone in that room knew Jerry wasn’t allowed to touch Rick’s things, especially when Rick wasn’t there, as much as Morty knew for a fact that he would find the bowl in question somewhere in Rick’s belongings. 

“Sure Morty can go look for your bowl. But he isn’t going to find it down there.” Beth snapped at Jerry once more before turning to face Morty with a smile. “Morty, honey, can you go check and see if your Father misplaced his good mixing bowl in the garage? You know the one with all the flowers on it?”

Morty could’ve rolled his eyes at her. She always had to emasculate his Father during arguments. Sure, a lot of the time Jerry deserved it, but that didn’t mean Morty liked hearing it. Plus he hated when she made excuses for Rick. Of course the scientist had stolen Jerry’s bowl. Morty couldn’t think of a good reason for Rick to have it, but he knew the man did. Morty mumbled out a ‘sure thing’ as he pushed past them. No doubt Beth would make Jerry search the whole kitchen again, which would probably buy Morty enough time to find the bowl before Jerry tried to sneak into the garage once more. 

Morty let his eyes roam the shelves in the garage, looking for anything that even remotely resembled a bowl. To his dismay there was nothing. He even got on his hands an knees and searched under the bench, hoping it was there. Next was the trash. But no matter where he looked, Morty just couldn’t find what he was searching for. Grumbling out a sigh, Morty walked over to the little hidden door hatch and pulled it open. Rick didn’t exactly like Morty going in his subterranean laboratory alone, though he never said it outright. Likewise, Morty wasn’t too fond of going in it at all. Part dungeon, part lab, part bunker. It was dangerous and horrific and more than Morty wanted to deal with on most days. Still, there were only so many places Rick could be hiding Jerry’s belongings, and unfortunately this was a good contender.

Thankfully there were no clones. Morty had been genuinely glad to learn that Rick had given up on that idea. It had gone terribly the first time, and while he was sure Rick could figure out how to perfect it eventually, Morty wasn’t looking forward to all the attempts until he reached that level. In other good news, there was nothing alive in the basement either. Rick had a habit of keeping aliens of all sorts locked away for testing. Having some half living lab experiment moaning at him for help was the fastest way to ruin his day. Therefore, Morty was relatively thankful as he walked by a table covered in unknown body parts.

By the time Morty had flipped nearly every surface in the great expanse of the basement, that Rick had continued to expand despite his promise, he was angry, sweaty, and fed up with his search. Maybe he had been wrong in assuming Rick had taken Jerry’s good mixing bowl. Or maybe Jerry had taken it off-world for who knows what. The only place he had left to check was Rick’s bedroom.

Grumbling, Morty made his way back up into the house. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Rick’s room… It was just stuffy and claustrophobic. It was little more than a storage closet, though Rick never complained. Rick could sleep anywhere, whether that was curled up in the cruiser, slouched over a table, or in the cot he insisted on keeping in his room rather than an actual bed.

While Morty had never been banned from Rick’s room, he had also rarely been in it ever. Before it had been because of the tight quarters, but lately it was because just the thought of being somewhere so private to Rick made Morty’s skin crawl. He had dreams, day dreams, and consistent nagging thoughts of kneeling down next to Rick’s cot to suck the man off, along with other, less tame things. So much so, that just standing in front of the man’s door made his cheeks flush as all his desires came rushing to the surface.

Despite knowing Rick wasn’t inside, Morty knocked before entering. It was habit more than anything, though it was probably a life saving action if the older man was in there for whatever reason. When no reply came, Morty hesitantly opened the door, peering inside. Darkness greeted him causing Morty to awkwardly molest the wall looking for a light switch.

Not much had changed since the last time Morty had been inside Rick’s bedroom. Pictures, strings, and boxes littered the room in a way that only made sense to Rick. Why he had never unpacked after moving in, Morty wasn’t sure. Hell, he didn’t even really know what was in the boxes, and he didn’t really care to find out. Snooping around to satisfy his own curiosity was’t worth the risk of pissing Rick off.

It took Morty all of three seconds to find the mixing bowl in question. It sat on the table behind Rick’s bed, and thankfully it was empty. He wasn’t sure if Rick was about to use it or already had, but either way he would make sure Jerry washed it extra good. Morty wasn’t too keen on eating left over experiment residue.

He was nearly out of the bedroom altogether when something caught his eye. A flash of yellow buried away in one of the boxes. Morty knew it was wrong to fish the object out, but the all too familiar material made it impossible to listen to reason. Slowly, Morty pulled out one of his own shirts from the depths of Rick’s belongings feeling a strange mixture of emotions swirl around inside of him. After a few moments of trying to piece together the puzzle before him, Morty recognized it as the shirt Rick had made him hand over while they had been working on the cruiser together.

“What?” Morty mumbled to himself, rolling the shirt between his fingers. Why had Rick kept it? And more importantly, why was it washed, folded, and tucked away? Had Rick taken it out of the wash after Beth had cleaned it? Or maybe the man had washed it himself? Both seemed wildly out of place. With growing confusion, and an overwhelming feeling that Rick wouldn’t like walking in on Morty like this, the boy put the shirty back where he found it.

Or, at least he tried to. Morty’s hand missed the box, catching the edge harder than it could handle. In slow motion he watched the box topple over, spilling its contents across the room. Panic welled in his chest for many reasons. What if he broke something? What if Rick walked in and saw everything on the floor? What if, what if, what if? There was a million and one things that could go wrong. Kneeling down, Morty started grabbing handfuls of stuff to throw back into the box in a sad attempt to hide his accident.

Then his fingers brushed over something that gave him pause. At first Morty wasn’t sure what he was looking at. An old memory buried deep down, locked away out of anger and hurt. Something he hadn’t thought about in years. With a shaking hand, Morty stood up, still holding the object. Then he walked toward the bed to drop it on Rick’s pillow. Wiping the tears from his eyes Morty fled from the room, refusing to look back at the mess still on the floor or the voucher Rick had received all those years ago for ‘one free Morty.’


	10. Chapter 10

White hot seething rage coursed through Morty’s veins. His heart thudded in his chest so hard he thought someone might hear it if anyone was around. But no one was, he had made sure of it. After nearly shattering Jerry’s metal mixing bowl from the force he slammed down onto the table with, Morty had ignored all questions, comments, and concerns from his Parents and barreled straight out the door, finally allowing all the welled up tears to fall freely down his face along with the accompanying hideous sobs.

Over time that deep aching hurt that shook him to his core turned into anger. Rage and fury consumed his being until Morty desperately needed an outlet for it and ended up kicking the nearest tree. A white hot throb shot through his foot and Morty knew without a doubt that he had broken a toe. He also couldn’t bring himself to care. Every step stung and Morty reveled in it. It was the only thing keeping the fury at bay. Besides, these new tears felt more deserved since they weren’t being wasted on Rick.

Rick. What a piece of shit. That ‘one free Morty’ voucher had ripped a hole in Morty’s chest and pissed all over the wound left in its wake. Sure, Morty had always known deep down that if he died Rick would replace him eventually. He had also hoped that the man would grieve him a little first before reluctantly finding a new companion for their brainwaves alone. When Rick had turned down that voucher at the Citadel it had meant the world to Morty. It had meant The Mortiest Morty was irreplaceable.

As usual, Morty had been a dumbass. The only thing Rick needed was a shield. And unfortunately for Morty, any one of his inter dimensional selves could fill that role. He shouldn’t have expected anything more out of Rick. And he definitely shouldn’t have caught feelings for the man. Morty felt like such an idiot.

He limped to the nearest bench, unsure of when he even entered the park. By now the adrenaline had worn off and his foot really started to ache. It was nothing unusual for Morty to be in pain, but with every aching step the emotions inside him grew, threatening to bubble over. He was feeling a lot of things and suddenly it was too much. Pawing at the wet streaks on his cheeks, Morty was thankful no one was around to see him. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people watching him cry… he just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone. Especially not the man walking out of the swirling green portal to his right.

“You trashed my room, Morty.” Rick said, automatically reaching for his flask. It was something Morty had seen the man do so little since he de-aged himself that it came off as almost unnatural.

“Ho-ly shit.” Morty said, slowly emphasizing each syllable. He dug his injured toe into the ground, letting the pain wash over him in a weak attempt to keep himself grounded in that bullshit moment. “Are you fucking me Rick? That’s really how you want to start this conversation?”

“Oh yeah? How would you prefer I start? Thanks for letting- thanks for providing the chance to reorganize my shit?” Rick scoffed, fumbling to put his flask away. “Was long overdue anyways.”

“You’re unbelievable, Rick. Y-y-you’re such a-an asshole, you know that?” Morty’s stomach curdled, brimming with embarrassment and self loathing. Sure, most of what he was feeling was all Rick's fault, but he couldn’t help but hate himself for thinking Rick could be different when everything in the universe said otherwise. “I’m sick of- I’m so sick of being your shield.”

“Morty-” Rick’s brow furrowed.

“No.” Morty cut the man off, feeling everything bubble to the surface. “You don’t get to talk. I-I-I don’t want some half-assed, backward apology that we both know you don’t really mean. All you care about is yourself, man. And it’s- it's not cool, you know? I thought that maybe you cared about me, but i-i-it turns out the only thing you care about is protecting yourself. I mean, you’ve been holding onto that ‘new Morty’ ticket for years.”

“Morty-” Rick tried once more, fishing for his flask again.

“Shut the hell up, Rick. I’m not finished.” Morty felt something wet dribble into his mouth. He wiped at the tears running down his face, unsure of when they started. “You know this whole time I-I thought you didn’t take that ticket? Stupid of me, right? But I guess that’s why you keep me around, to be your protective bubble of idiocy. Well I’m tired of it, Rick. If you cared about anyone other than yourself-”

“I only care about myself?” Rick snapped angrily, cutting Morty off. Instead of shrinking in on himself as Rick stepped into Morty’s personal space, the boy stood up, doing his best to puff out his chest and not put too much pressure on his injured foot. “Bull-fucking-shit, Morty. Do you- you don’t even realize how much I actually fucking do for you.”

“Ooh wow you’re right. How can I forget the time you cronenberged the world for me? Or when you left me alone on that shitty mutant planet for three days. Or-or that time you almost got me expelled from school. Or that time you beat the shit out of me and broke my nose.” Morty glared at Rick, acknowledging the anger on the Scientist’s face. If Morty was smart he’d shut up and run. Instead he did his best to square his shoulders and maintained eye contact. Then, as an afterthought he added, “And my cheek, too. Want me to go on? I’ve got a never ending list of shit, Rick.”

“Real fucking classy, Morty. Bringing up everything bad I’ve done to you. Guess all the decent stuff doesn’t matter!” Rick’s face was tinted red with anger but Morty could care less. This conversation was long overdue. “You’re being a real piece of shit, Morty. You don’t even see half the things I do for you.”

“L-Like what?” Morty balled his hands into fists, afraid he might push Rick if he didn’t. As much as he wanted to, he figured another fight wouldn’t be the best thing for either of them. “All you do is yell at me, call me names, and push me around. You’re a bully, Rick.”

“Y-yeah, I do that stuff because you deserve it. I-I-If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t always be saving your life. I wouldn’t have blasted that lowlife Jellybean fucker that felt you up in the bathroom into a million pieces. And I certainly wouldn’t have de-aged myself for you, Morty.”

“Oh yeah, R-Rick.” Morty glazed over the King Jellybean comment for the moment knowing full well he would have to talk about it with Rick some other time. It never occurred to him that Rick knew anything about it, much less actively did something about his abuser. In fact, it was a scenario he still had nightmares about from time to time. “I’m sure you- I’m sure you really de-aged yourself for me and not so you could bang twenty year olds and have a brand new liver to destroy. You did it because you were afraid of getting old and dying!”

“Yeah, Morty, y-y-you’re right!” Rick yelled back, eyebrows scrunched up in anger. “I was afraid of dying and leaving you all alone.”

“You- you what?” Morty’s mind went blank as he stared up at Rick’s reddening face. Clearly he had admitted something he never intended to. But there was a fierce determination in those blue eyes that Morty didn’t quite understand.

“I did it for you, Morty. I do everything for you. D-Don’t you get it?” Rick’s voice softened, causing all of Morty’s anger to dissipate. For a moment nothing happened; he just stared up at Rick, fishing for something to say, trying to make sense of everything. Then Rick’s lips were crashing down on Morty’s, wrapping his arms around the boy to pull him into a tight embrace.


	11. Chapter 11

A rapidly growing warmth spread through Morty’s body as he hung limply in Rick’s arms, trying and failing to process what was happening. Surprisingly soft lips on his own sent a tingling shock wave through his body, lighting up every nerve. Colors burst behind his eye lids, the taste of whiskey flooded his mouth from the split second where he gasped in shock, and Morty felt like he could practically float away with how lightheaded he was feeling. And then the world came crashing down on him as Rick pulled away.

“Morty, l-look, I-” The scientist started, looking just as flushed and breathless as Morty felt. He took one wobbly step forward, reaching for the boy, only to kick his shoe into Morty’s injured toe.

“Fuck!” Morty screamed, unable to stop himself. He had gone from feeling really good to really bad. Instinctively he tried pulling his foot up to look at it, or maybe even cradle it, he wasn’t entirely sure, only to lose his balance and practically fall into Rick’s arms again. “Aw geez, my toe. I-I think I might have broken it.”

“You broke your toe? Morty, how did you- what did you even do? You weren’t gone that long.” Rick said, wrapping an arm firmly around Morty’s waist and pulling him into his side. Morty watched in silence as the older man fumbled for his portal gun with the other hand. “Come on, we better fix it before i-it gets worse.”

Morty was surprised that the portal Rick essentially carried him through lead to the subterranean lab rather than the garage. Rick always cured Morty’s injuries in the garage, it was kind of their hang out spot. The lab wasn’t normally something the Scientist shared. But then again, nothing about the last few minutes had seemed normal. Not that Morty would complain.

“Uh, R-R-Rick?” Morty yelped out as the older man picked him up and placed him on one of the several medical tables that were usually reserved for experiments. “What are you-”

“Relax, Morty. I’m just going to put something on that toe. Fix- heal it up for you.” Rick said, avoiding Morty’s gaze. On one hand, Morty was glad Rick was acting like things were normal. It helped calm his rapid heart rate down. On the other hand, Morty was confused, upset, and desperately wanted another kiss. Except he couldn’t ask for one of those because he wasn’t even sure why he had gotten the first one.

“Okay, Rick.” Morty’s face flushed as he watched his Grandpa sink onto his knees. It wasn’t a sight Morty could have handled well before, but now? An inopportune tingle shot through his body, threatening to make things a lot more uncomfortable than they already were. Then Rick took off Morty’s shoe and sock and the raging pain was more than enough to deter his thoughts from anything sexual.

Morty recognized the small bottle of cream Rick produced as a healing agent. It wasn’t the same one Rick kept trying to use on Morty’s nose. In fact, it wasn’t one Rick used at all, really, though he wasn’t sure why. Morty flinched as two fingers rubbed a glob of cold cream across his big toe, which had become so red and swollen that he felt a little nauseous just looking at it. Warmth radiated into the area Ricked rubbed, leaving Morty flushed once more.

“So, uh, Rick. What was, um, w-what was that back there?” Morty looked anywhere but at Rick. The tension growing between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Morty knew why he loved that kiss, he just wasn’t sure why it had happened. He had a million questions, all of which he was too scared to ask.

“C-come on Morty, do we really need to talk about that?” Rick asked, grabbing Morty’s foot with both hands, choosing to knead what was left of the cream into the surrounding area.

“Well, yeah. You said something things, Rick. And y-you kissed- Oh.” The moan fell from his lips of its own accord. Morty’s face burned at the noise he had made, chancing a quick peek at Rick, who didn’t stop rubbing. In fact, once the Scientist heard Morty, he was quick to repeat the motion of dragging his thumb down the arch of the boys foot. Thankfully Morty kept the next embarrassing noise to a soft gasp.

“Yeah I know, Morty. B-but we can forget that happened. If that’s what you want.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet for being a Rick.

“N-no.” Morty did his best to control the tremble in his voice as he battled with the sensations in his foot. The pain had long since dissipated, and that only left pleasure. Morty had never had a foot massage before, and at the moment he couldn’t figure out why. Rick’s fingers were working miracles with every swirl, and Morty would stay there forever if he wasn’t also dying for answers. “I-I-I don’t want to forget it, Rick. I want to know what you meant.”

Rick’s hands fell from Morty’s foot, leaving the boy shocked and disappointed until he felt is other shoe being removed. Next went the sock, followed by yet another embarrassing noise from Morty. He slammed his eyes shut and arched his back, thankful for the friction his tight jeans provided for his hardening length.

“I meant exactly what I said. I guess I realized I wouldn’t be around forever, Morty. And I-I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t leave you alone.” Rick’s fingers trailed up, onto Morty’s legs. The only thing separating his Grandpa’s hands from his skin was a seemingly infinite layer of denim. It might have been discouraging if Rick’s hands weren’t still slowly moving up the expanse of Morty’s legs. “You know, there’s so much out there that- that can hurt you. I didn’t want to die and leave you unprotected.”

“I-if you were so worried about me, Rick,” The words fell from Morty’s lips by themselves. He slammed his eyes shut to enjoy the way Rick’s fingers delicately massaged his thighs before his words inevitably caused the man to stop. Plus with his eyes closed, he wouldn’t be able to see the anger cross Rick’s face. “Then you wouldn’t have taken that stupid ticket.”

“I didn’t take it because I want it. I took it because I need it.”

All the air was sucked from Morty’s lungs as he felt long fingers pop open the button on his jeans. He should be angry at Rick for taking the ticket. He should be vocally questioning what was happening. Hell, maybe he should even be running away from something that could very well ruin his life. Instead, Morty just lifted his ass off the table as Rick pulled his pants and underwear down in one swift motion.

Only then did Morty crack one eye open to risk a peek at Rick. The man still kneeled between Morty’s legs, which was erotic enough in itself to make Morty open both eyes in an attempt to ingrain this moment in his memory. Rick’s face was beet red, refusing to look up at Morty. Instead he chose to stare at the cock before him, which was enough to make Morty throb. It was only then that the boy realized Rick hadn’t said anything even remotely mean. In fact, Rick was on his knees practically bearing his heart and soul to his half naked Grandson. It was so fucked up. It was so hot. Morty held his breath, waiting for the older man’s next move.

“I keep that ticket as a reminder that you’re fragile.” Rick said, grabbing Morty’s length and stroking. Morty slammed his eyes shut once more, unable to look at Rick as another ungodly moan fell from his lips. Thankfully Rick kept talking, not drawing attention to the way Morty’s body jerked up into his hand. “To remind myself t-that you can die, and if you do it’s because of me. I-I-I can’t cure death, Morty, but I can transfer your consciousness into another body. Don’t worry, this cloning- I-I perfected the clones. Nothing crazy would happen to you.”

Morty was on fire. His face burned with embarrassment from the way he was acting like a bitch in heat. Every time Rick’s hand stroked back down to the base of Morty’s cock, he would thrust up into it, silently begging the man to speed up. Rick’s pace was slow torture that was dragging all sorts of shameful noises out of Morty. If the boy didn’t also need to hear Rick’s reassuring words, he would be begging Rick to hurry the hell up and jack him off already. Or suck him off. Or fuck him over the table he was on. Instead, Morty pulled his shirt off and chucked it across the room in an attempt to cool down just a little.

“Most Rick’s wouldn’t bother transferring their Morty’s like that to keep them around. That’s why they have those tickets in the first place. T-they just grab the next Morty they see because it’s easier for them.” Much to Morty’s dismay, the slowly building coil in his stomach came to a screeching halt as Rick pulled his hand away. The boy’s eyes shot open to see why, only to realize Rick was standing in between his legs, leering over him. “But I don’t want to ever have to use that ticket, Sweetheart. I can’t.”

This time Morty was the one to catch Rick off guard with a kiss. Instead of soft, slow, passionate one like before, Morty was all teeth and tongue. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to taste Rick, let his hands run under the mans shirt, feel the way his bottom lip squished between his teeth. A soft, low groan escaped Rick that was music to Morty’s ears. He bit the mans lip once more to elicit another noise, which resonated deep within him and had Morty roughly pushing Rick’s lab coat to the floor.

“Fuck, Morty.” Rick’s voice was hoarse and breathless in a way that made Morty want to drag his fingers through the older mans hair and pull. So he did, enjoying the way Rick’s eyes practically rolled in the back of his head. Hesitantly, he leaned forward to tug at the hem of Rick’s sweater, thankful when the man shed it seconds later. Next came the pants, before Morty could even have a second to admire the top half of Rick’s body up close. The man had become all toned muscle on such a small frame and Morty wanted to touch, lick, and kiss all of it. But what he wanted to feel even more was the cock standing at attention before him.

Before Morty could make a move Rick was on him, pushing him back onto the table beneath him. It wasn’t super comfortable but there was no way in hell Morty was about to complain. Instead he just laid back and let Rick attach himself to his neck. Sure, there would probably be a hickey there tomorrow, but that was the least of his worries.

“R-R-Rick!” Morty was suddenly thankful Rick had taken them down to the underground lab rather than the garage and briefly wondered if this had been his plan all along. There was no way he could even dream of being quiet right now and was glad his parents wouldn’t be able to hear him all the way down here. “Aw, fuck.”

“Next time, Sweetheart.” Rick told him, wrapping a hand around both their cocks before stroking hard and fast. “I-I don’t think I can wait long enough to open you up this time.”  
Morty yanked Rick’s head down for another kiss, burying his moans in the man’s lips. It wasn’t long before he was crying out with his orgasm, shooting thick ropes of cum over his own chest. Rick was pulling away seconds later, cock still in hand. A wave of insecurity washed over him before Morty pushed it down. He had never been with another man before, but that wasn’t about to deter him.

“I-I-I can…” Morty’s voice was a lot more delicate than he had wanted. He had been going for ‘sexy’ and knew he missed his mark by a mile.

“What, you want to touch Grandpa’s cock?” Rick leaned back, offering himself up to Morty. Despite just having cum, Morty felt himself perk up again at Rick’s words. Morty had never been good at dirty talk. He should have known Rick would be great at it. Instead of reaching out to stroke Rick, Morty did what he had been dreaming about for months. He adjusted himself before leaning in and sucking Rick’s cock into his mouth.

Or as much of it as he could. Rick was by no means small and this was the first blowjob he had ever attempted. He was gagging and out of breath fairly quickly, but Rick fisted his hands through Morty’s hair and guided his head back down once more.

“Oh fuuuuuuck, Sweetheart. Your mouth feels so good.” Morty’s eyes watered at the force Rick was using to slam him down onto his cock. Desperately gasping in air everytime the man pulled him off for a split second, Morty was surprised that he was getting hard again already. “You look so beautiful like this, Morty. Doing so good for Grandpa.”

Rick’s grip tightened and he held Morty down for longer than he could handle. Hot liquid shot down Morty’s throat, shocking the boy enough to nearly make him choke on it. When Rick finally let go of Morty’s hair, he yanked himself off, taking deep breaths to soothe his aching lungs. No doubt his throat would be sore tomorrow, too. Yet Morty couldn’t really find it in himself to be angry. Especially not when Rick pulled him in for one more kiss, making sure it was soft enough to speak a thousand words.


	12. Chapter 12

Morty fell back onto the bed exhausted. They had been doing this for weeks now, yet Rick always seemed to wear him out. Which was surprising considering Morty was the younger of the two, no matter which way you sliced it. He was just thankful Rick had brought an actual bed down to the underground lab. There was only so many ways Morty could get fucked on tables and up against walls before his body screamed in protest.

“Geez, Rick.” Morty said, throwing the wad of paper towels he used to clean himself up with into the trashcan next to the bed. “I-I-I didn’t even know I could bend like that.”

“See, that’s the amazing thing about the human body, Morty. Anything is possible if you’re a big enough slut.”

Morty idolly flung his hand out, pleased when it made contact with something solid that pulled a ‘hey!’ from the older man’s lips. Within seconds Rick was straddling Morty, glaring down at him non threateningly. Morty just rolled his eyes, trying not to smirk. Ever since they had started...whatever this whole thing was, which neither of them were brave enough to label, Rick had gotten very handsy as well as unusually affectionate. Morty loved it. 

“Don’t hit me, punk.”

“Y-y-you said ‘sweetheart’ wrong, Rick.” Morty teased the man with the nickname, which he had been doing often lately. He couldn’t help it. Whenever Rick called him sweetheart it made Morty melt. 

“Oh yeah? W-well only good boys get praise. And only bad boys hit Grandpa.” Morty inwardly groaned, half wishing he had just gone to sleep after their little tirade like he planned. He knew exactly where this was leading. He could see it in Rick’s eyes. He could feel it in the way his own cock slowly sprung back to life. As much as he loved getting fucked six ways to sunday by the Scientist, he also valued sleep. 

How Rick had this kind of stamina, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was he was going to be sore in the morning. They had been trying out all sorts of wild things Morty couldn’t have even dreamed of, and he loved every second of it. Whatever this was, whatever they had between them had become everything to Morty. He had a sneaking suspicion Rick felt the same way, too. 

“Guess you’ll just have to punish me, Rick.” Morty said, knowing he was probably getting into more than he could handle at the moment. But all those worries slipped away when Rick leaned in to kiss him. Whether Rick planned on being soft and gentle or making him scream with a mix of pleasure and pain for the rest of the night, he would take it time and time again. Morty would do anything for Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry for such a short chapter, but I really tried finishing it up in the last one and just couldn't make it work. Thanks for all the love and support, and thanks for sticking with this even though it took me a while to finish it. I hope yall enjoyed it!


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